


pieces that fell and rose from the depth

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, brief/extremely light injury/body modifcation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-23 23:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14943488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Sokrates loses much during the war. Integrity knows. Integrity has waited.





	pieces that fell and rose from the depth

**Author's Note:**

> an _extremely_ late bday gift for kay - I hope you like it!!!
> 
>  
> 
> thanks to maddie for looking it over/checking The Lore
> 
>  
> 
> title from 'Adventure in Solitude' by The New Pornographers

It’s strange, going from being part of a family - even an estranged one - to being alone. They had their group, of course, their small, patchwork mix of Apostalisians who had believed in them enough to leave everything behind. Sokrates knew all of them by name, but that wasn’t quite the same as being able to give Cassander a  _ look _ across the dinner table and watch them muffle a laugh: an easy comradery.

 

There was nothing like that for them during the war. Any victory, no matter how small, was won through long, drawn out battles in space and in the cramped confines of the war room. Jace was a little easier to work with, just hopeful and starry-eyed enough that he believed them when he learnt why they’d broken from Aposalos. Ibex, well… they could barely think of him without the kind of seething rage that made them pace the the small corridors of their ship, their movements twitchy as they reenacted argument after argument in an attempt to stay away from the bottom of that rage, where it twisted into a kind of fearful hopelessness, the kind that said they would always be seen as a betrayer, that people like Addax and Orth, who otherwise have good sense, would never trust them.

 

They spent a lot of time alone during the war like that, fighting and then avoiding people in an attempt to avoiding fighting with them. It was only partially successful, especially after the communication was sent out from one of their crew. People never quite trusted them for not giving their crewmember up.

 

Addax asked them, after that meeting (or, interrogation, really) whether they could track the message in some way, identify the culprit.

 

Sokrates tilted their head up to meet Addax’s eyes. “Of course I could. But I won’t.”

 

(They didn’t need to track it -- they knew who it was. They saw the message the moment it went out, and they’d closed their eyes, taken a deep breath in and let it slowly out, and let the message go. They’d hoped, at the time, that it brought the party on either end of it some small fragment of peace.)

 

Things go from one disaster to another, needy refugees to superweapons to potential spies. They’re not particularly targeted or organised, but there are a few times when their small fleet seems to be holding its own and then--

 

Victory. Of a kind.

 

It leaves Sokrates cold. They take what they can and steal a shuttle. They leave a message for Jace, because he at least might understand fighting a lost cause, and their shuttle’s disabled tracker behind.

 

They know a thing or two about machinery after all. That’s what landed them in this mess in the first place.

  
  


(Jace never gets the message -- Orth does. He does the best he can to find homes for the Apostalisans left behind. He does his best. It’s not enough, but it’s his best.)

  
  


They planet hop for a while, careful to make themselves difficult to find, until their permanently-borrowed ship starts to give out. They take what they can carry from their crashed ship, hide the rest as best they can, and begin their long walk towards the closest city.

 

The first building they really notice is the library, a huge building carved into the mountainside. Their steps echo in the halls but no one gives them a second glance. Everyone here is as dusty and travel-worn as they are, and for once they don’t stand out.

 

They wander further than they mean to, much further than they need to to grab a map and rest enough to continue on. But there’s something, a niggling feeling urging them forwards. Just ahead. Just around the next corner. Deeper. There’s  _ something _ .

 

It’s dark, this far back. They unhook an old LED lantern from the wall, holding it in front of themselves to help guide their way in-between dusty shelves.

 

They can hear something, like the mountain shifting, just ahead of them. It should be enough to make them turn back, towards the light and the gentle sound of people rustling through pages, but… it’s just a little further. They can feel it now, at the back of their mind, a warm pressure, guiding them forward.

 

It’s a dead end. Sokrates cranes their neck up, looking at the rough stone wall as it disappears into darkness. They laugh, because of course. Rushing towards nothing but a dead end. Again.

 

They set down their pack and lean against the wall. The stone is cold against their back, a welcome relief after their trek.

 

And then.

 

The sound again, like the mountain shifting above them.

 

Their stomach drops as a crack snakes down the wall and they jump back-- it’s not a crack at all it’s… it looks like an insect, a centipede almost, but it keeps changing as they look at it -- it’s impossibly huge, stretching into the darkness above, it’s tiny, no bigger than their finger, it’s barely visible against the grey stone, it’s glowing, shimming like the oceans of Apostalos.

 

The warm pressure pulses in the back of their mind, and they reach out, their fingers almost touching it.

 

_ You must accept wholey, _ says a voice, scraping in their ears like glass.

 

Sokrates winces. They take a few breathes, waiting for the ringing in their ears to stop. The creature in front of them waits too, antenna twitching in time to the pulsing warmth in their mind.

 

“Accept what?” says Sokrates.

 

_ All of it _ , says the voice,  _ I am all or nothing _ .

 

“I think I’ve had enough of being put in no-compromise situations thanks,” says Sokrates.

 

_ I know. It has been hard. It will be hard again. Acceptance will not help with that. But I offer my partnership all the same. _

 

It has been a long time since someone offered  _ them _ a partnership. Sokrates’ eyes flick over the creature, long and slithering, short and scuttling, twitching. Waiting.

 

“What does a partnership with you mean exactly?”

 

_ I will help you, and protect you, and reside in you-- _

 

Sokrates pulls their hand back.  “Reside  _ in _ me?”

 

_ We will be the same _ , says the voice, grating and unwavering,  _ I will reside in you and you will reside in me _ . _ I saw what you tried to achieve. I can help you. _

 

“And what do  _ you _ get out of it?”

 

_ The same as you do. _

 

Sokrates lets out a shaky breath. “Will it hurt?”

 

_ Yes _ , says the voice simply.

 

“Well, I guess I appreciate your honesty.”

 

_ Thank you _ .

 

Sokrates huffs a laugh, rubbing the back of their neck. “Okay.”

 

They hold out a hand and the creature scuttles onto it, snaking its way up their arm.

 

_ You accept? _

 

“Sure, I accept. It can’t be worse than any of the other decisions I’ve made.”

 

_ Your decisions have been solid and right. I would not have reached out to you if that were not so. _

 

“For a mysterious library creature you certainly know a lot about me.”

 

_ I am a Divine _ . The voice sounds louder now, making their teeth ache.  _ I have the ability to know many things, even from here. _

 

They can feel its legs scratching at their skin through their clothes.

 

_ I am Integrity. Do You Accept _ ?

 

“Yes,” says Sokrates, “Yeah, just get on with--”

 

Pain, like their nerves turning into knives on fire. They fall to their knees, hands hitting the dusty floor in front of them before their arms buckle. They’re not sure if they scream, they can’t hear anything over the hot pressure in their head. Their vision blurs into white, then grey, then black.

  
  


They’re alone when they open their eyes, squinting at the bright glare of the LED lamp. They sit up, slowly, wincing as they move their stiff limbs. Their pack is still sitting against the wall where they left it. The wall stretches smooth and unbroken above them. The only sign anything happened at all is their scuff marks in the dust and their splitting headache.

 

_ I can assist with that _ .

 

The pain fades to a distant throb and then melts away entirely. Sokrates blinks, looking back up to the wall. The creature -- the  _ Divine _ \-- is gone.

 

_ Not gone _ , says the voice,  _ I am with you now, always. _

 

Sokrates lifts a hand, feeling along the back of their neck. Skin and scales give way to cool metal. It shifts under their fingertips, rising to meet their touch before settling down.

 

_ You accepted _ , says the voice.

 

It almost sounds wary. They can feel it, on the edges on their mind, hesitating.

 

“Yeah, I did,” says Sokrates.

 

They push their certainty towards its wariness, so Integrity can feel it too. They get a warm-pleased feeling in response. Sokrates smiles, not quite sure if the motions comes from themselves or Integrity but glad for it either way.

 

Sokrates pulls the pack back on. “So, where to?”

 

_There are some texts you may be interested in_ _here_.

 

Sokrates smiles, lighting the lantern up higher. “Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
